[ Alice carefully blunts out what he'd been smoking against a ceramic ashtray before the balcony door opens (can't let the smoke waft into the apartment) (can't waste it) and settles back, one arm bent behind his head. The other hand comes to rest on his stomach, comfortable (it's a good shirt, this shirt. Soft cotton, the thin vintage kind of soft cotton, washed so many times it's just right but not so many times that it's begun to fade, and if Treavor hadn't opened the door and poked his head out, Alice might have moved it over his stomach, back and forth with an open hand and a faintly daft smile.
Good shirt. The best shirt.)
There's his Treavor. His. (His?)
Yeah. His. He's smiling, drowsy-eyed, head turned and comfortable on his arm, and that's his Treavor (the head and shoulder parts, there's more of him on the other side of the glass) (how to get the rest of him, huh), looking great. Looking like Alice did something pretty great, himself, and that sends a flood of warm affection through him.
(Alice has decided, if not previously, then as of this moment, that Treavor has the best smile in the world. He would like to take a picture of that smile, but taking a picture of it means it can go to the cloud, and if it goes there, someone else will see it. And then it won't be just for him anymore, will it? Treavor will be smiling at someone else.
No, he likes this. Him, and Hope, and Treavor on his balcony, and that smile just for Alice. His heartbeat slow, but unsteady. His nerves calm but his stomach filled with fluttering pleasure.
Maybe. Maybe Treavor will come over and let him trace that perfect smile with his fingertips. (He was just thinking about his mouth, wasn't he? His pout over a single button, and what it would be like to run a thumb along his lip, to kiss him, to make him forget all about pouting or make him pout more?) (He's been staring a little too long at Treavor's mouth.)
(It doesn't occur to him to ask why Treavor's here. Of course he's here. He should be here, because the world is right today, and it's only right when Alice moves and Treavor moves and they come together with perfect synchronicity.)
(Beautiful. Beautiful. Fuck, he's so- )
Beautiful.
And talking?
Alice blinks slowly, and then makes a sound that's almost a laugh, and mostly a purr deep in his throat: content. Desiring. Pleased. ]
Now it is. Nice view, too.
[ And then, as though the idea only just occurred to him - and truthfully, it did only just fully form in the sluggish higher functioning of his mind - he adds coaxingly: ]
Hey.
[ Alice lifts his hand from his stomach and extends it rather gracefully to the other man. ]
Come here, Beautiful.
[ A lazy, charming smile - there's no doubt he's flirting, no doubt he's giving his most innocently enticing effort. You can trust me. I'm harmless. ]
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Good shirt. The best shirt.)
There's his Treavor. His. (His?)
Yeah. His. He's smiling, drowsy-eyed, head turned and comfortable on his arm, and that's his Treavor (the head and shoulder parts, there's more of him on the other side of the glass) (how to get the rest of him, huh), looking great. Looking like Alice did something pretty great, himself, and that sends a flood of warm affection through him.
(Alice has decided, if not previously, then as of this moment, that Treavor has the best smile in the world. He would like to take a picture of that smile, but taking a picture of it means it can go to the cloud, and if it goes there, someone else will see it. And then it won't be just for him anymore, will it? Treavor will be smiling at someone else.
No, he likes this. Him, and Hope, and Treavor on his balcony, and that smile just for Alice. His heartbeat slow, but unsteady. His nerves calm but his stomach filled with fluttering pleasure.
Maybe. Maybe Treavor will come over and let him trace that perfect smile with his fingertips. (He was just thinking about his mouth, wasn't he? His pout over a single button, and what it would be like to run a thumb along his lip, to kiss him, to make him forget all about pouting or make him pout more?) (He's been staring a little too long at Treavor's mouth.)
(It doesn't occur to him to ask why Treavor's here. Of course he's here. He should be here, because the world is right today, and it's only right when Alice moves and Treavor moves and they come together with perfect synchronicity.)
(Beautiful. Beautiful. Fuck, he's so- )
Beautiful.
And talking?
Alice blinks slowly, and then makes a sound that's almost a laugh, and mostly a purr deep in his throat: content. Desiring. Pleased. ]
Now it is. Nice view, too.
[ And then, as though the idea only just occurred to him - and truthfully, it did only just fully form in the sluggish higher functioning of his mind - he adds coaxingly: ]
Hey.
[ Alice lifts his hand from his stomach and extends it rather gracefully to the other man. ]
Come here, Beautiful.
[ A lazy, charming smile - there's no doubt he's flirting, no doubt he's giving his most innocently enticing effort. You can trust me. I'm harmless. ]
Stay a while.